A BLind life
by juljuirt
Summary: This story is set in the Danger Days universe by My Chemical Romance. Its POV switches from the young girl's one to the Killjyoys' one. This is sort of a prologue describing people's life under BL/ind's "utopia". There's a short resumé in chapter 1.
1. Chapter 1

_-Background: The story is__ set in the ‚Danger Days' world by MCR. This means that society is controlled by better Living Industries (BL/ind), who force their medication on everybody and oppress all resistance with violence. The Killjoys are four vigilantes who rebel against BL/ind with arms and murder. They live in the desert around Battery City._

_The story is written from the POV of a ten-year-old girl living under the BL/ind system._

**I.**

Time had a way of adjusting to the circumstances.

At boring times, it would just stretch and linger whereas it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye at good times. Not that she'd had so much of those in the last months. Maybe, she reflected, it was not so much that time itself adjusted but that it _was _adjusted by the people who owned it. She had no doubt about the fact that someone owned time since literally everything belonged to the people from BL/ind.

This school, for example. Or her life.

Realizing her thoughts were drifting away from her instructor's voice, the girl sat up straight in an attempt to focus. She couldn't afford to get caught thinking about anything other than the social system of Batter City, which was what she'd been lectured about for over an hour.

Strange things had happened to pupils who had been detected not thinking what they were supposed to. There were rumors about a boy who'd been caught doodling during instructions and had disappeared for a few days afterwards, being all weird and numb as he returned. They said the drawing had shown himself laughing.

Her eyes flickered to the huge screen in the top left corner of the wall. It had come alive only once during all the time she'd been in this school. A voice had ordered one of her classmates to go see the school coordinator. It was quiet now, though.

The girls closed her eyes for an instant, suppressing the urge to sigh before forcing herself to concentrate on the instructor. She wondered why the owners of time had to be so cruel.

...

As she walked through the corridor an hour later, she felt as if her mind was wrapped in thick layers of dust. There was not a thing she remembered from the instructor's sermon, but she didn't care. As usually, there were only whispered conversations between the students. They were out drowned by a BL/ind computer voice babbling about the importance of a healthy life and the company's inventions to achieve it. The speech was supported by animations on the screens that were installed at every corner of the white walls. She walked past the animated BL/ind-TV-lady, not bothering to have a single look at her. All of this was perfectly normal; it had been the same every day she'd ever been at this school. And why wouldn't it?

She didn't fall for the lady's fake smile; it had been a long time since she'd seen a genuine smile on someone's face.

The girl started as a sudden, loud beep came from the speakers and the watch on her wrist at the same time. Everybody in the hall stopped and pulled their dose out of the box attached to their belt. Surprised about how she could have forgotten it was time for taking the medicine, she reached for her belt in order to take her own dose. For a short moment, she looked at the gray pill in her hand. It looked like exactly like every other pill she'd ever taken: round, flat, with the BL/ind symbol on it. The smiley face still gave her an uncomfortable feeling, though she'd known it for as long as she could remember. Maybe it was normal to feel weirded out when you're about to swallow a smiley face.

It took her only seconds to swallow the pill for she was so used to it. She could feel it slide down into her stomach then dissolve to deliver its contents into her blood circuit, and a well-known numbness began to spread in her body. After a few moments, all thoughts about time, unison and fake smiles were gone.

...

The sign on the door read '_Home I where the heart is'_.

For most people, coming home meant entering their own little space where they were free to be themselves.

It did not for her.

She hadn't felt at home anywhere in this city for years. Perhaps her heart just wasn't in Battery City. Perhaps she had no heart at all, or perhaps it had been devoured by all the pills, because she has a faint memory of a time before taking a daily dose was obligatory. She might be mistaken, but their apartment had seemed a lot friendlier, more like a home then.

The girl opened the door and stepped into a narrow, white hall. It was completely empty except for two pairs of dark boots, both of them bigger than her own. So her parents were home. She didn't bother to call and tell them she was back, they wouldn't answer anyway. Leaving her boots in the hall, she went into the kitchen to grab an apple before heading for the living room. Her parents were sitting at the table, books in front of them. Neither one was reading, though. They were vacantly staring at the screen on the wall, their faces blank and expressionless. Of course, there was the usual BL/ind program flickering across the screen; the face of the news reporter was reflected in the lucent eyes of the couple. A shade of orange crawled across everything in the room as the sun finally began to disappear behind the horizon. The girl leaned in the doorway, resting her forehead against the cool fabric. She stood there, unnoticed, just looking at them until the last bit of sunlight had vanished.

Feeling nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

_-Switch in POV-_

Everything was ready.

Three months of planning, of plotting and preparing, and now they were finally about to do it. He was sitting on the counter, feeling flushed with pure excitement. For the millionth time, it seemed, he checked the control board on the wall. It looked fine; all of the little lamps were gleaming, just as they had two minutes ago. Oh, well. It couldn't hurt to be careful before the big event. He relaxed a little, having noticed how tense every muscle in his body was. His fingertips brushed lightly over the square button to his left; he knew that by pressing it, he would confirm the option presented on the computer screen next to him. Right now, it read '_Establish connection?_', which was a good sign, yet no guaranty for success. So much could go wrong; all it took for their plan to blow was one BL/ind pawn having noticed the tiny adjustments to their transmission cables.

"Dude, are you alright?"

He flinched so bad he nearly lost balance and fell off the counter as a voice interrupted his thought; clinching his fingers into the dark wood was all that saved him from the fall. He cursed, realizing he must have looked ridiculous. The broad smirk on his mate's face said it all. "You shouldn't let your guard down like that, _Party Poison_." Frank said in a mocking voice. "Any drac could have walked in and shot your sorry ass." "Oh, shut up…" he muttered, his face almost as red as his hair. Frank was right, though. He couldn't afford to be surprised by BL/ind's hitmen; God knows their revolver could do ugly things to a man.

He jumped off the counter, trying hard to ignore his best friend's smug face. "So, are we good to go? It's almost PT and you know we have to make it before that." The whole operation depended on the right timing; if they started after Pill Time, there was no point in doing it at all. Indifference would not be favorable for their intentions. It was risky to wait until the very last moments before PT, but then that was the timing when the effects of the morning medication was least powerful, almost gone even. Frank rolled his eyes; of course he knew that, after all, he'd been part of the planning. "Relax, Gerard. We're all set. The guys are on their way, and Dr. D said he was just gonna go get some stuff" he replied. Gerard sighed but didn't bother to remind him of using their code names. "What could he _possibly_ need? There's like _everything _in this place. All we need is here!" He looked around the room that was stuffed to the last corner with a billion things, the only free space being a clearance in the middle and a table with two benches at the dirty window. It was the sole thing that implied that this place had originally been a diner years ago. Today, it was the Killjoy's hideout and even more than that: Thanks to Dr. D, it had sort of become the center of the resistance's world.

Without warning, Frank slammed his elbow into Gerard's ribs. Gasping with surprise and pain, he yelled "OW! WHAT THE HELL is your fucking problem?" His attempt for revenge failed as Frank had already run away to the other side of the room, giggling like crazy. Well, he had always had a strange sense of humor. At one moment he'd kiss him and at the next, he'd tackle him for no reason.

"Lay off him, Frank." Gerard turned to face two men standing in the doorway, one of them blonde and the other one with an incredible mane of dark curls. He could see his little brother was caught between sympathy and the urge to laugh. The display of his inner struggle on his face would have been funny if there hadn't been that throbbing pain in his ribs. He went over to Mikey to softly smack his head, knowing it would mess up his carefully styled blonde hair. The next moment, they were chasing each other around the room, which wasn't that easy since there was little space on the floor for them to step on. It was only when someone audibly cleared his throat that they stopped, sweaty and laughing. A broad man in a wheelchair wearing a bandana and sunglasses had entered the diner, his arms full with cables and plugs. There was an annoyed expression on the visible part of his face, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. "What is it with everyone acting like babies 'round here? I thought you were serious about this." he growled, grumpy as usually. He steered his wheelchair past them towards the middle of the room (which in itself was an achievement considering three quarters of the floor were taken) and bowed to connect his cables with the boxes already standing there. Immediately, Gerard felt dead excited again. The doc was right, they were serious about this. After all, what was about to happen today might determine their course for the future. He reached for his brother's arm and pulled him towards the clearance, signaling for the others to join them. They had about ten minutes left until PT; it was time to get things started. "Hold on, guys. You might wanna put these on before we do this." said the doc, pulling something out of one of the countless piles of stuff around them. He turned towards Gerard, looking at him for a moment then slightly smiling. "Take this. It's yours, Party Poison." Curiously, Gerard reached out to take the mask Dr. D was offering him. His heart beat rapidly as he stared at the shiny yellow surface and the dark slits for the eyes. They seemed to be staring right back at him, two deep, soulless holes.

So this was going to become his new face. He hesitated a second then carefully put it on. Looking around him, he saw the others had veiled their heads with bandanas. It gave him chills to see his allies, his friends like this, all serious and hooded.

"Ready?" he asked, fixing his eyes on Dr. D who was now standing behind the counter, typing into the computer board. A single nod was the response.

He closed his eyes for an instant, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he heard the doc's voice read out the words they all knew by heart by now. He couldn't help but smile.

It was time to rattle the cage.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She hadn't slept well that night.

All night long, she'd been caught in confused dreams that had left a weird feeling when she woke up, like a bad taste that sticks in your mouth. Much to her annoyance, she didn't seem to be able to remember exactly what she had dreamt about; there were foggy images twirling in her head, but whenever she'd try to pin them down, they'd slip away. What was so aggravating about it was this feeling of certainty that she was so _close _to remembering if she only tried hard enough. Somehow she had the suspicion that her morning medication had something to do with her inability to access what was inside her head.

No wonder she felt a bit edgy as she went to instructions that day.

Still stuck in her dream's aftertaste, the girl sat in her classroom, once again having a hard time trying to concentrate on today's lecture (BL/ind's involvement in the modernization of Battery City). For some reason, she was sure her mother had been a part of her dreams, and a pleasant part, too. Well, probably more pleasant than her real-life mom who had one more time barely noticed her this morning, let alone talked to her. She knew her mother loved her, or had loved her, but with the indifference brought by the pills her displays of affection had become more and more seldom.

Suddenly, there was an ache in her throat. She might not know too much about BL/ind's achievements in the city, but she certainly was witnessing their achievements in her family.

Her eyes fixed to her instructor, she crossed her legs, feeling her pill box softly brushing against her hips. Yes, BL/ind really was omnipresent; they always found a way to intrude her thoughts. On her way to school, she had walked past at least a dozen gigantic monitors attached to the city buildings or on posts at the crossroads. You couldn't escape from the smiley face and its messages; there was no place in Battery City from which you couldn't hear BL/ind's voice at any time.

The instructor was now walking through the classroom, handing out worksheets. The girl took hers and skimmed the questions, suddenly feeling a bit worried for she would be in big trouble if they found out she'd been totally absent-minded. Her stomach seemed to cramp as she reached for her pen. Oh, God. It was gonna be a long day.

...

She'd been writing for about ten minutes when it began.

It started with a low, humming noise, a sound so constant and monotonous that at first she didn't recognize it to be a sound at all. Only when it grew louder she raised her head and looked around, confused. Her first thought was that she'd had some kind of damage to her ears from God knows what, because clearly there was no source for a sound like that in her classroom. It couldn't be the air conditioning for it worked on solar energy and had no engine that might roar. The sound had become a real fuss by now, filling every corner of the room, making her ears ring. She noticed her classmates looking up from their sheets, the same confusion she felt reflected on their faces. What was even weirder, though, was the fact that her instructor looked just as bewildered. The woman turned her head, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. A murmur arose in the room; none of them had ever seen a BL/ind instructor surprised. Noticing everyone was staring at her, the instructor stood up and tried to silence her students who were now blatantly chatting to each other. "Everybody CALM DOWN. This is probably just a failure of technique of some sort and will be fixed in-"

SKREEK.

Twenty-two heads turned in unison as the screen in the corner came alive with a sound like ripping paper.

There were gasps from some of the students at the sight of a giant spider symbol that had appeared on the monitor. It sent chills down the girl's spine; she knew instinctively that something important was about to happen. Then a voice, different from any voice she'd ever heard, filled the room, saying the words that would never again let go of her.

"_Look alive, sunshine… 109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit. You're here with me, Dr. Death Defying. I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter, pumpin' __out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you alive…_"

It was completely silent in the classroom. Nobody moved, they all sat there, frozen, with eyes wide open and (in case of Howard Buttercup in the first row) with open mouths.

Every single person was gazing at the screen.

She had no idea what was going on, but this certainly wasn't a BL/ind program. Suddenly, her heart began to beat hard. She'd heard rumors about groups of revolters living outside Battery City. Was it possible…?

"_A system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan. Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny_"– she'd never heard anybody talk with so much passion- "_this one's for all you rock'n'rollers , all you crash queens and motor babies. LISTEN UP!"_

All of a sudden, the spider began rotating, spinning faster and faster until it was nothing but a whirl of black. Then, without warning, the screen turned brightly white, blinding them for a moment. She blinked rapidly, afraid she would miss something.

And then there was the music, music like she'd never heard in her life.

It began with what she reckoned to be an electric guitar, playing a tune that was intense and light at the same time. The voice was now shouting, blending with the music rather than trying to out drown it. "_The future is bulletproof! The aftermath is secondary!"_,(the instructor flinched as she heard her company's slogan), "_It's time to do it now and do it loud. Killjoys, MAKE SOME NOISE_!" Right there, his voice finally gave way to the ear-blowing sound of drums.

At that moment, several things happened at the same time.

- The screen revealed four men clad in bright colors (an unusual sight in the sterile white BL/ind world) and veiled with masks or bandanas, instruments in their hands. The room seemed to explode as their voices filled it up with a maddeningly loud chant of 'Na Na Na's.

- The instructor snapped out of her immobility and began yelling "Turn that off! TURN THAT OFF!", rushing towards the plugs of the monitor in panic.

- There was the sound of a crash as someone in the back row fell off their chair, although it was barely audible with the volume of the instruments.

The girl just sat there, stunned, amazed and incapable of making a move. Her ears were ringing with the incredible sound level of the music whose bass had every bone in her body vibrate. Much to her surprise, she realized she didn't mind, at the contrary. There was something pure about this music, a feeling of honesty that was making her excited. And the sight of her instructor losing it was most enjoyable.

"_Let's blow an artery, eat plastic surgery, keep your apologies. Give us more detonation!_"

Wow, they really weren't into BL/ind, were they…

She felt kind of impressed with their audacity. They had the guts to rebel against a system they hated, they didn't follow every single stupid order.

"_Everybody wants to change the world. Everybody wants to change the world. But no one, none wants to die..._"

The words went straight to her heart. It was true, it was just true. Nobody dared to speak up against better Living Industries. And in this very moment, as if she'd been shaken awake, she realized this was wrong. Eagerness and excitement filed her up to her fingertips. With shining eyes, she watched as the display on the screen changed, now showing recordings of people from earlier times: A family sitting around a Thanksgiving meal. Two adolescents making out. A couple kids in a swimming pool; a crying woman and many more.

The whole range of human life before BL/ind.

A faint sound diverted her attention from the screen. It came from her wrist. Of course, she recalled, it was PT. How strange that beep that was usually pretty loud had gotten totally flodded in the music. The girl bit her lip; something was holding her back. She felt with all her heart that she did not want to take medication right now. "Take your pills! EVERYBODY TAKE YOUR PILLS, NOW!" shouted the instructor, cracking open her own boy and gulping down her dose as if her life was depending on it (which it probably was judging from her mental state in this instant).

Many of the children hesitated, looking at each other insecurely. Some of them already had their dose in their hands, their glances wandering insecurely between the monitor and the instructor. "Take your dose or I SWEAR I will make you regret it!" she snarled, slowly relaxing as the drugs began to work. "_Make no apology! It's death or victory!_" went the Killjoys on the screen. The girl picked up her pills from the box, feeling them lie cool in her palms. All around her, kids were swallowing them, but she didn't.

She couldn't.

With a quick movement, she let them slide into her pocket, feeling her pulse speed up.

The Killjoy singer sang his last words: "_…let this world explode!_"

And with that, the screen turned white, getting brighter and brighter and finally blowing up.

Thick gray smoke filled up the room, veiling twenty-two faces and all forbidden display of emotion on them.

They sat in dead silence.

...

It was as if she'd entered another world when she stepped outside the school building.

Dust was lingering in the air, making it hard to see even as far as across the road. A pungent smell like melted plastic lay above the scenery.

Something had happened in Battery City.

The crowd of children urging out of the school took her with them like a wave, she had no choice but to go with the mass. Excited chatter, questions, screams of surprise and confusion were all around her. The girl suddenly noticed that something was missing in all this chaos, something that had been a part of Battery City for so long it had become a natural part of its soundscape: In all this fuss, one voice was quiet.

BL/ind's voice.

She stopped abruptly. There were indignant shouts from the kids behind her that had bumped into her, but she didn't care. Her gaze wandered from the high building to her right to the crossroad in front of her. What she saw was incredible.

The huge monitor was broken, blown-up really, just like the screens at school had been. Cables with burnt ends were hanging from it like tiny dead snakes.

She stared at it, it was such an unusual sight: No propaganda, no smiley face, and this probably everywhere in the entire city.

Amazed, she walked on. All the way to her apartment, she saw confused people that were looking around as if they were seeing their city for the first time, people talking to each other excitedly or pointing at the broken screens. By the time she'd arrived, she felt almost ecstatic (probably, as she thought to herself, partially because she'd missed out on her PT meds). Her head was still filled with the Killjoy's melody, and suddenly she was really eager to see her parents. Did they already know?

The girl burst through the door and ran straight into the living room, not taking the time to take off her boots and therefore leaving traces of dust on the white floor. "Mom! Dad! Guess what happened at school today! There was-" She stopped still as she noticed her parents weren't sitting in their usual place. Slightly surprised, she looked around the apartment, only to find that they weren't home. How weird. Oh well, she might as well try to get some information about what was going on. The news was probably full of it.

A few minutes later, she was kneeling on the living room floor, fumbling under the cupboard. It hadn't been that unexpected to find their TV out of order. She hadn't even tried to switch it on; the smoke coming from it pretty much guaranteed that there was no point anyway.

Finally her fingers found what she was looking for. She pulled the old transistor radio out of where it had been resting for years. It was a bulky, old-fashioned thing with lots of buttons and an antenna, and right now, it was a little treasure (although covered in dust). The girl blew it off before randomly pressing buttons. One of these had to be the one to switch it on; the complete silence in the apartment was so unfamiliar it was sort of starting to creep her out, which was actually stupid because she should be enjoying it, really.

A sudden noise interrupted her thoughts. She'd pressed the right button at last, and the sound of radio interference was almost immediately replaced with the voice of a BL/ind press officer.

Her eyes widened more and more as she heard about what had happened in Battery City.

She turned up the volume and listened.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Our city has been exposed to several attacks today. These are believed to be the work of the outlaws known as 'The Killjoys', who have previously been sighted in Zone 6. Monitors everywhere in Battery City have been sabotaged and recently out of order due to an electric overload. Furthermore, two storage buildings have been blasted at around Pill Time. There are rumors that this was caused by terroristic activities. Better Living Industries wished to stress that these rumors are misconceptions. The blasts of these towers had been planned for a long time, there is no connection whatsoever to the sabotage of the monitors in-_"

Gerard couldn't hear further than this for the men around him were roaring with laughter.

He couldn't blame them, smirking broadly himself. "P- Planned!" gasped Frank with tears in his eyes, "Oh, that's really good!" As usually, his giggly laugh was contagious, and Gerard couldn't help but join him. Relief and triumph had blended together and made them all feel pure euphoria. It felt so GOOD to be laughing with the guys about this BL/ind dude and his lame-ass explanations. Hell, a five-year-old could tell these were lies.

Their plan had worked, they had outmatched the company. The doc's awesome hack had totally done the trick. Of course everybody would focus on an ear-blowing transmission of an inflammatory song rather than pay attention to their surveillance cameras.

The perfect distraction from a bunch of guys placing pipe bombs in front of a building.

"Gimme five, bro!"

He turned to look into Mikey's gleaming face. When had he last seen his little brother this happy?

Suddenly he felt it had been worth the effort for his smile alone.

He high-fived him, and then – 'cause he couldn't help it- pulled him into a massive hug that damped all protest. In the blink of an eye, Frank joined them, pulling Ray with him until they were all cuddled together in an awkward circle.

An image of fat penguins standing together in the Antarctica came to his mind. Oh yeah, the Fabulous Killjoys were_ so_ tough.

The guy on the radio was now ordering every citizen of Battery City to get themselves a radio in order to "_be able to access important instructions from Better Living Industries at any time_". Gerard frowned. How did that dude think that they'd be able to hear his order if they didn't already have a radio? BL/ind pawns really were dumb. Just how had they ever been able to take over the country?

He buried his face in Frank's hair for a short moment, breathing in that well-known smell of smoke and wind before stepping out of their circle.

"Good work, guys. We kicked some BL/ind ass today!" He grinned. "That'll teach 'em to take us seriously. We're the fucking Killjoys and we're done taking their crap!" Mikey and Ray nodded, agreeing, and Frankie, who was just about to light a cigarette, saluted him.

For a while, they were quiet, just listening to the sickeningly happy music that accompanied BL/ind's propaganda broadcast. After about a quarter hour, the report about the "planned blasts" was repeated, making them smirk once more.

It was then that Ray cleared his throat. "We really gave those people imprisoned in the city something to talk about, didn't we? That's a good thing, right?" He paused, looking through the window. Outside, the desert air was flickering with heat. "I mean, who knows… someone might even start to think." His gaze wandered absent-mindedly around the bleak landscape.

All of a sudden, he tensed and sat up straight, apparently having discovered something.

Gerard followed his eye and saw it, too. Without a word, he grabbed his ray gun, knowing from the sound of three other guns being cocked that the others had understood.

He went into the diner's back and banged three times at the doc's door to signal him that they were coming for them. Then he stepped outside and joined the line of his three allies. He closed his fingers tightly around his weapon. They remained silent, watching the cloud of dust blown up by a dozen draculoid vehicles that were heading for the diner, feeling an increasing tension build up in the air.

The desert itself seemed to be holding its breath as they raised their guns.

The Killjoys waited.


	5. Chapter 5

Her parents came home over three hours after she'd first heard the report on the radio.

As city administration employees, they'd spent hours on trying to reconstruct the amount and sort of pills stocked in the storage buildings that had been blown up. Apparently, there had been loads. So why would BL/ind destroy their own products?

Lies. Nothing but lies from BL/ind's mouth, that was the only explanation.

These buildings had been destroyed by rebels, it wouldn't make sense otherwise.

The family sat in the living room, school books and report forms in front of them…and in silence. The silence was still unusual; it felt uncomfortable, heavy, even louder in her ears than the Killjoys' song earlier. The girl had her hands folded in her lap and darted a glance at her parents every now and then. She almost missed the constant chatter of the TV or even the radio; the quietness was way too honest. The only sounds were those of a page being turned from time to time or a pen writing something down.

She felt the urge to shout and yell and tell them to talk.

She wanted voices, laughter, music.

She wanted something. Anything.

All she got was silence and the certainty that something was wrong with her family.

For crying out loud, why didn't they talk? So much had happened today, so much had changed… at least it appeared to have. She could use some more information, really.

A few minutes later, she couldn't bear it anymore. She grabbed her book, got up and headed to her room, but stopped in the doorway. There was something she hadn't told her parents in a while. "Mom? Dad?" she said. "You know, I love you."

A try. An effort to break the silence. But she didn't wait for a reaction. She turned and walked on. A look back revealed that neither parent had even looked up.

...

The girl lay on her bed and examined her room.

White walls, white floor and white sheets. She was so sick of the whiteness.

The image of the Killjoys' singer's shining red hair appeared before her inner eye. Their colors had been such a huge contrast to the white classroom. To their white lives.

She thought of their song. She repeated word by word its lyrics, making sure she would not forget any of it. There was one line that was especially engraved in her memory: 'What will save us?'. How strange that these rebels seemed to think that their live under BL/ind was something they needed to be saved from. But wasn't it?

Her pillbox clattered softly as she moved a bit. It should be empty by now, but it wasn't. Not today. There were two pills left and they were the reason why she finally began to think about her world. She lay on her back, thinking about the Killjoys.

Suddenly, she had an idea. If there was one thing she was sure of than that there was too much whiteness in her life. It was like a cage around her; though she'd never noticed it before, it was very clear to her now.

The girl rolled off her bed and combed through her schoolbag. There was only one crayon she had, a blue one. Colors were so frowned upon these days. Her fingers found it and closed around it.

She sat back on her bed and took a closer look at the wall beside it. All of a sudden she was very much aware of the sound of her beating heart. She softly ran her fingers over the concrete, then lifted up a corner of her bed sheets. Without thinking, she drew a little blue spider at the part of the wall that was usually concealed by the sheets.

For a long time afterwards, she just lay there, watching the spider darken with the fading light of dawn. It was tiny, and still it gleamed like a spotlight to her. A spotlight of something she'd just discovered: her own will.

_Note to my readers: will upload next chapter next Friday. I'm getting to the point at which I will actually run out of what I've already written and continue writing. :) Hugs to you!_


	6. Chapter 6

It was over.

As the last body fell to the ground, Gerard let go of his ray gun to stretch his sore fingers. It landed in the dust with a muffled sound of impact, a yellow spot on the gray floor.

Well, gray and red. Part of the desert ash was soaked with blood; it seemed to glow in the beginning dawn.

He felt exhausted. The adrenaline was gone now that the fight was done, leaving only weariness. There was the taste of blood in his mouth which he couldn't 100 % identify as his own. He stood there between lifeless bodies and took it all in. So this was the feeling of victory? It had felt different in his memory.

He turned to check on the others right at the moment when Ray collapsed. His heart skipped a beat. "Ray!" Mikey's exclamation soothed him only for a second. He was relieved that his brother was alive, but right now, he felt cold with fear for his friend who was clearly injured. And where was Frankie?

As he hurried towards Ray's motionless body, he looked around but couldn't spot him. Mikey was already kneeling beside their friend when he made it there; his hands were searching for the wound. Gerard needed one look to be able to tell that this was serious.

Blood was pouring from where Ray was lying, forming small dark lakes around him. Gerard swallowed and addressed Mikey. "Come on, we have to carry him inside. Help me lift him up!" He stood up and grabbed Ray's arms. Holy crap, the guy weighed more than he'd expected. Gerard pulled his friend's torso up and glared at Mikey, who was remaining motionless. "For fuck's sake, Mikey! This is not the first time one of us got injured, now get off your scrawny butt and help me out here!"

His brother looked up at him and immediately got a shocked expression. Gerard, who had begun to drag Ray towards the diner, stopped and asked irritably: "What?" "Dude… you're bleeding pretty badly." Mikey got up and picked up Ray's feet, giving his older brother a startled look.

Gerard looked down himself. Oh, right. He'd been hit by a graze shot earlier. How weird he didn't feel a thing. "It's nothing" he said, clearing his throat then calling for the doc. They brought Ray inside and placed him on the counter (which was the only free spot big enough). Doctor Death Defying steered his wheelchair into the room. He saw Ray lying there and groaned. "Not another one…"

The meaning of these words hit him with a slam, making his stomach twist. Another one…

"Frankie?"

He realized that he'd said that out loud. Mikey gave him a quick look. The doc was already examining Ray as he replied. "Yes, _of course_ Frankie. Who else would it be?" His fingers wandered about Ray's chest, revealing a major wound as they opened up his jacket. The brothers flinched a little at the sight, but he merely snapped his fingers at them, saying "Bring me some towels, kid. We need to stop this fucking bleeding." Mikey hurried to fulfill his demand and combed through he piles of stuff.

Gerard stood there, not knowing what to do. His head was aching.

Ray was injured. Frank was injured.

Frank. Where the hell was he, anyway?

"He's in my room." growled the doc. So he'd been thinking aloud again. "Don't you dare wake him!" he shouted after him for Gerard was already heading for the back of the diner. He rushed towards the doc's lair, impatient to see his best friend.

Then suddenly there were images of a blood-drenched Frankie before his eyes.

He hesitated to open the door. What was he to expect?

God, why hadn't he _asked _what had happened?

"Oh, fuck this."

He opened the door and entered the room, steeled for whatever state he'd find his friend in.

The first thought he had was that doc wouldn't have needed to tell him not to wake the patient. Frank was awake, sitting on a filthy mattress on the floor. The second thought came with massive relief: He seemed alright; pale and covered in bandages all over, but alright.

He even grinned at him as he made his way through the room. "We gave those fuckers hell, huh?" he said.

Gerard looked down into those familiar green eyes. They were sparkling with life and satisfaction, and despite the huge cut in his cheek, Frankie was a smug as ever. And finally, _finally_ he felt the triumph of their victory. He smiled, too, and said "Well, they asked for it. Shouldn't have messed with the Killjoys." He paused, thinking of Ray. Suddenly he began to feel his wounded leg. "It was a hard fight, though." he continued, "We barely made it… I mean, look at you, and Ray's knocked cold right now." Frank sighed but didn't look too concerned. "He's gonna make it, right? He always does." he said.

Gerard wished he'd be able to take live as lightly as him. Frankie had always loved a good fight; getting injured had never bothered him.

A sting of pain from his leg made him flinch. It took him a second to steady his breath, then he told Frankie he didn't know. He knew the doc would do everything in his power to help Ray; but then he'd failed to save a life once before. That was a long time ago, but it still hurt.

On the other hand, they'd been wounded before; it was what happened when you spent your time fighting battles with firearms. Coming to think of it, they'd never really given any thought to what they'd do if one of them got an injury they couldn't recover from. They always just _had_. Such luck wouldn't always be on their side, though. They were all well aware that the path they'd chosen led only to one possible end.

There was no growing old for Killjoys.

A weird feeling of dizziness spread throughout his body and Gerard found himself having trouble to keep standing. His leg was killing him but he didn't want to whine about it when Ray was lying in his own blood. Hell, he could handle a scratch like that. No need to bug the doc with that. He clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the ache.

Frank had started to give him weird looks and was probably about to notice the bloodstains on his left leg, so it was a liberation when the doc steered his wheelchair into the room. His hands were red with blood and so were the towels he was carrying. Looking up, he met two pairs of eyes voicelessly asking the same question. He groaned and growled: "He's over the hump. They got him pretty bad in the chest, but he'll be fine." Frank raised his fist into the air and gave Gerard one of his 'haven't-I-told-you' smirks. Gerard himself felt strangely indifferent, though of course he was glad his friend was going to be okay.

It was hard to cheer when everything around you was spinning.

Frank said something which he didn't understand. He was looking at him, too. His mouth was moving, but there seemed to be no words coming from it. So weird. Maybe, Gerard reflected, he had lost a bit more blood than he'd wanted to admit after all.

The room began to blur before his eyes, and Gerard prayed he wouldn't land on Frank's injuries as his legs gave way under him. Pain and heat finally got the upper hand.

The last thing he saw was the doc bowing over him.

_The pain in his leg was killing him. There was pain in his arms, too, but that was a different kind. The kind you got from carrying a seven-month-__old around for ages. _

_The pain in his leg was worse, though, and would probably have more dire consequences if it meant they couldn't walk on. __He inhaled sharply as another wave of ache shot through his body. It was no good, he couldn't tread anymore. Clinching his teeth, he slowly sat down, trying not to wake the baby. It had taken him long enough to soothe it. _

_A little hand touched his arm, reluctantly as if more damage might be caused by the touch. "Gee? Are you okay?" The fear in the voice was undeniable. The boy turned to his brother and faked a smile. "Yeah, sure." he said. "I just thought it'd be a nice idea to start our night's rest a bite earlier for a change. Look, Tristan is already asleep, too!"_

_He could tell from the look on his brother's face that he hadn't quite bought it. There were limits even to what a seven-year-old would believe. He sighed. "Mikey, just __sit down, alright? I need a break before we find some lair to stay in."_

_Mikey bit his lip and joined his older brother on the dusty ground. His little fingers started drawing circles in the soil, giving the other boy an opportunity to take a look at his leg. It was so bloody it scared him a bit, but he didn't show it._

_He couldn't, Mikey would get spooked. _

_He as the oldest was the leader. The leader wasn't allowed to feel fear. _

_Quickly, he put the pant leg over the scratch to keep it from his brother's gaze. No need to freak him out. _

_The boy silently cursed and tried to bite back the tears that were persistently trying to come to his eyes. Just why did he have to get caught in that freaking chain-link fence? What if they couldn't march on? Their water supplies were already running short. The few cookies wouldn't last much longer, either. This whole situation was messed up. _

_After a few minutes in silence, he gathered all his strength and forced himself to get up. He almost passed out, but he fought back the blackness closing in on him. "Come on, Mikey. We should get going." He lifted up the baby and the backpack, prostrating involuntarily at the weight. The leg ached like crazy and those freaking tears were still at the ready. But he could not afford to cry. Maybe later, when Mikey was asleep, if they found someplace to sleep._

_The children wandered on. But the __older boy knew that they couldn't go on like this very much longer. His desperation was growing along with their shadows as the blazing sun slowly changed its position, the day approaching its ending._

_He could see no outcome to support._

"Gee? Are you okay?"

His eyes snapped open as someone smacked him. For an instant, he was confused and couldn't remember where he was before he fully came to his senses and felt his burning cheek. "What the fuck!" he exclaimed. Seeing the doc's broad smirk and Frankie's worried face, he didn't have to ask which one of them had smacked him. "Oh, good, you're awake now" said the doc. "Which means you can explain to us why you failed to mention that little leg injury of yours." He nudged his bandaged leg, causing Gerard to gasp at the pain. Alright, so he was pissed off. Gerard sat up, realizing just now he was lying on the mattress that Frankie had occupied earlier. He felt two gazes burning into him and cleared his throat. "It was just a scratch" he said.

"Just a scratch, huh? Well haven't I heard that one before!" snapped the doc. "You only passed out from blood loss, so that must have been one hell of a scratch!"

"Oh, cut it out!" He felt a bit embarrassed. There was no need for them to stand around him and put up a fuss about his injured leg. "Um… how's Ray doing?"

Frankie sat down next to him, carefully avoiding touching his friend's leg. They both ignored the other man's angry snort. As he answered, Frankie absent-mindedly began to stroke Gerard's hair (which felt nice but also a little awkward). "He's still unconscious" he said, "but Mikey's with him to make sure he's okay." All of a sudden, he giggled. "You really got him worried, man. He nearly shat his pants." Great. Now that made him feel so much better.

"Well, would someone tell him I'm okay? Cos I am, you know." he demanded.

"Sure." Frankie half-hugged him for a second before getting up and heading for the main room. The two men were left in silence.

Gerard didn't know what to say. He knew he'd annoyed the doc by not informing him about his leg, but then the others had been more severely injured. Surely he understood that. "Um" he said, clearing his throat, "thanks for stitching me up anyways."

He got a bash on the head for an answer, but it wasn't a hard one. Looking up, he met the other man's eyes. Wow, he wasn't even wearing sunglasses. That had to be a first.

The doc sighed and shook his head, but seemed a bit appeased. "Well" he growled, "it wouldn't be the first time, right?" He turned his wheelchair and began to leave the room, turning back once more as he'd reached the doorframe. "You get some rest now, kid, you got like four hours. Don't think they're gonna give us more than a day."

Gerard looked after him. Oh well, a day's worth of peace was gonna do fine.

It was more than rebels usually got, anyway.

...

**Note to readers: Wow. I've officially introduced Tristan... you'll learn more about him in the next chapters. I have some weird story for him, I hope you'll accept him anyway... ^^;**

**Plus a _little _Frerard goodness in this chapter...wouldn't be MCR without Frerard, right? ;) **

**Next chapter: Friday, April 22 **

**Hugs! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Note to readers: I know I said Friday, but I've been really inspired today. Plus I'm super curious what you think of this new chapter, it was unusually hard to write...so here we go. :)**

**This one's a really long chapter, so I'll split it in two. Chapter 8 will be a continuation of the girl's POV. The Killjoys will have to wait a bit. ;)**

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When the girl opened her eyes, she found herself staring right into another pair of turquoise, round eyes. She jerked back, startled. It took her a moment to realize those were her own and that she was looking at her own reflection. Actually, she was looking at several, for all around her there were mirrors. Other than that, she was alone.

The girl felt her heart get heavy.

Oh, right. She was still here. Still locked in this room with nothing but a toilet, a screen and those endless reflections of her self to keep her company.

She curled up into a ball on the cold floor with her arms around her body in an attempt to comfort herself. She couldn't tell how long it had been since they'd put her into this cell; the minutes had been floating by until she'd given up on counting them. Alone with the mirrors, there was nothing to distract her from the nagging fear and the dark thoughts in her head.

Once again, she asked herself what they were going to do to her.

She must have been here for more than a day. Had anybody noticed her disappearing yet? Probably.

Did anyone care? Certainly not.

The girl buried her face in her arms, resting her forehead on her knees. She had never been so hungry before. There was a pot of water in the corner to her right, but so far no one had brought her any food. Maybe they were planning on starving her to death. Maybe that was what you got for disobeying BL/ind.

It was so weird to think that just two days ago, everything had been normal. She'd taken her doses, gone to instructions and lived the same life as everyone else.

And then the Killjoys had forced their way into her life with a blast and her world was never going to be the same again.

She'd deliberately not taken her medicine. She'd drawn their symbol on her wall.

And now, she was sitting in a cell with mirrored walls, imprisoned and looking into a threatening future with an uncertain outcome.

She should have known they'd find out. They always did.

Her thoughts wandered to that boy who had disappeared for days because of his drawing.

Had he too sat here, scared and starving, desperately wishing he was home with his parents? Had he too been called to the coordinator's office as he arrived to school?

She shivered at the memory of that soft voice calling her from the screen at the entrance. "Student No.9214603, please report immediately to the school coordinator." It had said.

And that was when she'd known she was in trouble.

As soon as she'd opened the door to his office, trying hard to act calm, someone had grabbed her and held something smelling like toothpaste, but stronger, under her nose. Next thing she knew, she was in this room, surrounded by distorted images of her self and locked in.

Again, that boy came to her mind.

What had they done to him to make him so numb? Was the same thing going to happen to her?

She saw his clinical face before her eyes and felt sick with fear.

Without a warning, the lights went out.

The girl jumped up, ignoring the dizziness that shot through her body at the sudden movement. Her hasty breathing and fast heartbeat were the only sounds she heard for a few moments.

Then the huge screen occupying an entire wall came alive, bathing the room in a ghostly, faint shade of white. The blurry reflections of herself looked scary, in the light from the monitor it seemed as if she was surrounded by ghosts. She fixed her eyes to the screen and waited, clenching her fingers around her wrist, trying to calm herself.

Nothing happened for several minutes. She just stood there, motionless, eyes on the screen, suppressing the feeling that her reflections were watching her.

Then the BL/ind smiley face appeared on the monitor.

She flinched a little. Its usual smug smile seemed so inappropriate for the situation it was almost scary. "_Student No.9214603,_" a female voice said as sweet as sugar, "_you are here because of your disrespectful behavior towards the regulations of Better Living Industries displayed two days ago around Pill Time. To be more precisely, you failed to take your does of medication after both your watch and your instructor reminded you of the necessity to do so._" The smiley face was replaced with a video recording of her classroom. The date in the top right corner said it was from two days ago. Not that she would have needed it. It was clear which day was meant.

She saw her classmates' confused faces, saw them look at each other, then take their meds.

She saw herself, too, sitting in the third row, staring at the screen where the Killjoys had been that day. She watched herself as she hastily looked around her and obviously did not take hers. Her heart sank to her boots.

It was all there, clear and visible for anyone to see, her stupid attempt at non-conformism.

There was no way she could deny it. Oh, god, if only she had known there were cameras in their classroom… but of course there were, the whole city was under surveillance.

Her legs started trembling, and she noticed she was close to tears.

The screen showed a freeze image of her slipping her dose into her pocket for a moment before changing back to the smiley face.

"_You have very much disappointed your friends at Better Living Industries._" the voice said gleefully. "_Would you like to explain why you chose to disregard your friends' advice of taking the medication to make you happy_?"

Now tears were streaming down her face. "I…" she whispered, "I didn't…I never wanted-" "Thank you!" the voice continued, "_Your statement will be regarded. Maybe you would like to go home now_." "Yes!" her voice was barely audible. Yes, she wanted to go home more than anything. She wanted to cling to her mom and be held, she wanted her to never let go again. She was so scared.

"_I am afraid that's not possible right now, though_." the voice fluted, as cheerful as always. The girl leaned onto the wall for she was afraid she might collapse any moment. Waves of fear shook her body over and over. But if they wouldn't let her go…what were they going to do then? How long could they keep her before her parents came looking for her? Surely the would…wouldn't they?

"_Please be assured that no harm will be done to you. Better Living Industries has always wanted and will always want only your best._" The girl sniffled. Yeah, right. That's why they had locked her up in here without anything to eat.

"_Now if you could be so nice as to look into the center of these circles_."

What? Slightly surprised, she looked up and saw the smiley face had been replaced by a strange image of little circles that, conjoined, build a sort of flower. She looked at the fine, wavy lines they consisted of and felt confused.

"_Please stay focused on the center_," the voice said, friendly. Then the circles began to spin, faster and faster until they were but a blur. Their rotation was accompanied by a low, humming sound, and soon the girl found herself unable to avert her eyes from the screen. She couldn't move, either, but it didn't matter. She didn't need to be able to move, all she had to do was stare at the screen. And then the lady's voice was back. "_Relax,_" it said, "_there's no need to be so tense. Aren't you tired of being afraid? Just relax_." All right relax. What a great idea. The girl allowed her muscles to loosen. She wasn't afraid anymore, at the contrary.

"_Now repeat after me: Better Living Industries is my friend…_" Her mouth automatically formed the words. The part of her brain that wasn't completely lulled warned her that she was being hypnotized, and that that was probably bad, but she was already too mesmerized to care. "_I've made my friend very sad by not taking my medicine._" She was vaguely aware that she was crying again. Tears of guilt.

"_I shall never disobey my friend again._" No. No, she would never disobey again. She repeated the words, sobbing and staring at the circles.

The voice sounded pleased. "_One last thing_," it said. "_You should know how much you owe to Better Living Industries_." With a clatter, a hatch opened besides the screen, presenting a tiny plate with just one pill on it. "_This will give you an impression of the sinister experiences you'd be confronted with if it weren't for your friend Better Living Industries. Please do take it for your enlightenment._" Without hesitation, the girl reached for the pill. It was unusually dark, almost black. Had she paid attention, she might have noticed the little warning sign on its back. But she didn't, and swallowed it right away.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then her stomach began to burn as if on fire. She collapsed on the floor, cramping, gasping for air. And then she saw them. Hundreds of reflections were coming at her, out of the mirrors and towards where she was lying. She panted, horrified, and pressed herself against the screen. Panic overwhelmed her as she got a closer look at her reflections' faces. It was her face, but ghastly deformed, with vicious red eyes glowing in the dark room. "No!" she panted out, "please - no – LEAVE ME ALONE!" They snickered maliciously and kept circling around her, getting closer, pointing their finger at her. "_Guilty,_" one of them hissed. "_Loathsome,_" whispered another, "_Destroy her!_"

Never before had the girl been so scared. She screamed and cried, trying to fight off the horrible images before her eyes. The reflections' murmur grew louder and louder until it hurt her ears. But it was out drowned by someone else's laughter.

The voice from the screen laughed at her terror. "Never dare to disobey us again, little girl." it said without a trace of its former friendliness. "Never again. You will regret it."

With that, the screen was switched off, leaving her in the darkness with her fear and nowhere to hide from the terrible hallucinations. For the next few hours, the girl went through hell.


	8. Chapter 8

Somehow, she made it home.

She had no idea how she'd managed to do that or why, but at some point she realized she was standing in front of their door.

Apparently, some part of her was still conscious enough to remember she was supposed to be home. It was nearly evening; all citizens should be at home, listening to Better Living Industries' news, ready for the latest orders. She would take along. The dreadful events of the last hours had eliminated all traces of free will inside her.

Her hand reached out for the doorknob. Then the door was open and she stepped into the hall.

Everything was the same as always. There were two pairs of dark boots on the whipped floor, the smell of cleanliness and the muffled sound of a TV running that told her her parents were in the living room.

The girl took off her shoes and went to see them. They probably wanted an explanation for her disappearing for days. When she was halfway down the floor, her mother came out of the living room and saw her.

The girl braced herself for whatever degree of mental breakdown was to come.

It was unnecessary, though for all she said was "Oh, hello. There's some food in the kitchen, if you're hungry." Now whatever welcome she'd expected, this was not it. It must have been, like, two days that she'd been kept in that cell. Two days in which her parents had had no word about her whereabouts. Wasn't there like a rule or something for parents to get upset if their child was missing for more than a few hours?

Somewhat thrown off course, the girl answered: "Uh, yeah, sure" and followed her mother into the kitchen. She watched her put a bowl of chowder in the microwave before adding "Mom. _I'm back._" "That's nice, honey." her mother replied, clearly not having listened to a word of what her daughter had just said. She stood in front of the table and watched the bowl spin slowly, ignorant of her child's return.

The girl was confused. "Did you not- _wonder_ where I was?" she asked.

Suddenly, she felt like she was going to cry, despite the indifference she was experiencing from the medicine they'd eventually served her in that horrible room.

Her mom turned and looked at her with glazed eyes. "Oh, you were out? I didn't know… well, I hope, you had a good time." And with that, she went back to the living room, back to where the latest BL/ind program was resounding, leaving her daughter alone with all her confusion and desperation. The girl remained motionless, trying to cope with what she'd just heard.

Her own parents hadn't noticed she'd been gone for _two_. _Days_.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything other than numbness; but it wasn't the same as before. More than ever, she was aware that it was a fake feeling.

There were thoughts beginning to form inside her head, but she couldn't put a finger on any of them. They were like waved crashing against levees brought up by those drugs.

She swallowed. After all the time in that cell, after the horror, the loneliness and the darkness, she really could have used a hug.

After a few minutes of trying to get a grip on herself, the microwave beeped to signal the food was ready. She took the bowl and a spoon and headed to her room.

She was already reaching for the handle when she remembered that little blue spider she'd drawn on the wall the other day.

What if someone had discovered it?

Her stomach began to ache from the controversial, suppressed feelings seething underneath the surface. Still, the drugs were strong enough to keep her calm. Though she was upset in her heart, they wouldn't let her react emotionally, and this inner turmoil was getting more and more burdensome.

The girl took a deep breath and entered her room, half-expecting a mess or some BL/ind thugs ready to take her with them.

She looked around.

Everything was exactly the way she'd left it. The books on her shelf were in the same order, the clothes on her chair were as neat as ever and her sheets were even still crumpled where she'd been lying. It sort of calmed her. So her parents hadn't noticed she'd been held hostage, but at least they also hadn't noticed her tiny sign of rebellion.

She put down the bowl on the nightstand and sat on the bed, lifting up the blanket t take a look at her spider.

What she saw made her gasp in disbelief.

The wall in front of her was completely white.

The girl ran her fingers up and down the wall, incredulous, desperately hoping to discover it somewhere, but all she found was untouched, white wall.

She started to sweat, cold sweat that was running down her spine along with the shivers.

Her entire body was shaking. The waves crashed against the levees again and again, getting more powerful by the minute.

At some point, she believed she was going to be sick. Her head felt as if it were about to split in two, filled with all those repressed thoughts of horror.

They knew.

They knew.

She pressed her eyes shut and sank back on her bed, lying between the sheets that had seemed untouched just a second ago. Now she knew that they must have been carefully rearranged.

It was all make-believe.

She heard her heartbeat loud against the rushing of blood in her ears.

They knew. Oh, God.

The girl opened her eyes again – and froze.

Right above her, painted at the ceiling, was the smiley face of Better Living Industries.

Underneath it, there were two words sprayed on the ceiling:

_KEEP SMILING_.

For one moment, she just lay there, unable to move, staring at it.

Then the levees broke.

The waves flooded over her, pulling her under water, suffocating her.

She fell off the bed, shaking uncontrolledly, and threw up. It was too much. Too much she felt now that the forced numbness had been washed away.

She couldn't cope with the pressure of the truth.

Her entire body cramped. She hyperventilated, unable to steady her breath, until little lights were dancing before her eyes. The buzzing in her ears grew louder; the room blurred and started to spin. For one horrible moment, the world ended.

And then it was over.

The girl lay on the floor, huddled up in fetal position, and panted. Slowly, her heart stopped racing and her body calmed down.

She felt weak, beaten, like after a strong fever, but her head was surprisingly clear.

People from BL/ind had been in her room.

They'd known about her drawing on the wall, so they'd been watching her. They were probably watching her now, too. The fact that they'd been able to intrude her room without anyone noticing showed how powerful they were.

And that smiley on the ceiling clearly was a warning. If she didn't "keep smiling", they would take more serious measures.

The floor under her hands was cool. She moved her finger, bending and stretching them as if to prove to her self that she was still able to control them by herself.

As if she had control over anything.

Now she wasn't even safe in her own home anymore.

Suddenly she noticed her cheeks were wet.

Touching her face, she realized she was crying. Tears. Actual tears.

She hadn't really cried for years. Yes, she had shed some tears because of terror, and because of that fake guilt induced by the hypnosis, but not because of genuine, deep sorrow.

It actually felt good to be able to give in to the emotions.

She sobbed. There was no point in concealing her desperation now, anyway. There were probably BL/ind employees watching her on their screen now. More tears streamed down her face, dropping onto her T-Shirt.

This wasn't a life. It wasn't her life, at least. It was a BL/ind life.

In that moment, she realized this was not how she wanted to live.

This oppression, this narrowness and endless whiteness, she couldn't take it anymore.

She wouldn't.

The girl sat up straight. She wasn't crying anymore, in fact, she was really calm now, almost relaxed. The smiley face was still staring down at her, but its smirk had lost its scariness.

With a quick movement, she wiped the tears away. No more crying from now on.

She had made a decision.

Her parents didn't give a damn about her.

Her room was under surveillance.

Her life belonged to the company.

She had nothing to lose.

The girl got up and reached for her backpack.

**-END OF PART I- **

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**So. Here we are at the end of Part I of the story. Thanks to everyone who's read all of these chapters so far! These last two chapter were pretty angsty, know. ^^;**

**Part II is certainly going to be quite a bit different... be prepared. :)**

**Hugs! **


	9. Chapter 9

**PART II**

_(Two days earlier)_

At the first purple light of dawn, they took off.

They'd been loading the doc's van with loads of his stuff from the diner for hours until every bone in their already sore bodies was aching. He'd insisted that if someone came to attack the diner, at least some of his equipment had to be saved. So now they sat squeezed in between wires and other technical equipment in their Trans Am and drove down Route Guano.

The mood in the car was pretty low. The Trans Am was crammed and for Frank sitting on the back seats, it was even tighter because Ray was lying on his back, occupying way more space than they could afford. They'd placed him there on lots of wires after carrying him from the mattress in the doc's room (which Gerard had insisted Ray should lie on).

Ray still couldn't sit upright because of his injuries, so now he was lying elongated (well, as elongated as possible under these circumstances) with his head on Frank's lap.

Frank was beyond annoyed.

He hadn't nearly fully recovered himself and he continuously le everyone know.

Gerard would have preferred to have him sit in the front seat, but that was Mikey's VIP seat and he'd claimed it, and after quite a lot of bitching, the doc had ordered them to "shut the fuck up" and get going. So now here they were, tired and squeezed in and _a tad_ unnerved.

Gerard hit the gas. It sort of hurt to use his injured leg, but there was no way in hell he'd let anyone else drive his baby.

They were heading for a friend's lair about a hundred miles away. The sooner they got there, the better, because a) they weren't in top shape for a battle in case they'd encounter any road control squads and (more urgently) b) Frank was really getting on their nerves.

"Why does he even _have _all this shit?" he complained. "It's like totally crowded in here. I feel like a fucking sardine."

Gerard didn't bother to point out to his friend that there'd probably be more space if he hadn't insisted on taking his guitar with him. But Ray did. He snapped something like "Well, and whose fault is that, huh?" to which Frankie answered "If I had it my way, me and my baby would be sitting up front with enough space for both of us. But our little princess here-" he reached out and bashed Mikey's head, "- had to be a little bitch and take that seat. Right, Mikey boy?" "What'd you say?" Now Mikey turned around, obviously pissed off.

The word "fuck" was used some more and it wasn't long until the three of them had a real argument going.

Gerard was slowly approaching the point at which he'd kick all of them out and leave them in the desert when a siren interrupted their bickering. "Oh, great." he thought.

They all knew that sound by heart.

A look in the side mirror confirmed his suspicion. There were four BL/ind zone control dracs on motorbikes approaching with high speed.

Now this was just perfect, exactly what they needed: more possible damage.

At least it had got everyone to shut up.

Frankie pushed Ray's head off his lap a little harder that necessary (which Gerard bet he'd done on purpose) and pulled out his ray gun. Ray cursed loudly and tried to keep his balance as Frankie's moving shoved the stuff stored in the car towards him. With a well-practiced movement, Frank and Mikey got up and leaned out the window.

They fought without a word. Laser rays were flying around the car. The dracs were closing in, firing back. Gerard floored the gas pedal, but they were fast. One of them had caught up to them and was now driving directly behind them. He was shooting at the tires.

"Oh no, you won't!" Gerard slammed his foot into the brake. The car made quite an interesting noise (apparently it didn't like being forced to a full stop after going 200). Tires squealed and the engine roared like crazy, but the car slowed down all of a sudden.

But it was the sound of the exterminator slamming unbraked head-first into the Trans Am that made him smirk. One down, three to go.

He got angry shouts from his companions, who had been jerked forwards at his sudden stop, though. "Fuck!" exclaimed Mikey, a hand on his ribs where he had slammed hard against the dashboard. "Could you perhaps _warn_ us before you do that?" "Sorry," he answered.

"Don't be sorry, that was fucking awesome!" came Frankie's voice from the back. He was laughing, the excitement of the battle all over his face. A low groan was Ray's only comment on the matter as he slowly hefted himself back on the seat from which he'd been launched.

Gerard looked at him in the inside mirror and was slightly startled when he saw the blood leaking through Ray's bandages. Oh, no. he hadn't thought of the possibility of their wounds opening again. The doc was going to kill him.

Right then, one of the rays hit his left side mirror and blew it away. "You fucking little -" he cried out, lost for words. How dared they harm his Trans Am? "Mikey, take the wheel." – "WHAT?" Gerard didn't wait for him to react. He let go of the wheel and joined Frank in his battle.

The wind blew around him, making his hair fly around his head like a red cloud. Frankie laughed at him. "All right!" he shouted. "Let's finish 'em off!" And they both shot like crazy.

It felt good when one drac after the other fell from their bikes.

For one moment, it seemed as if they were going to make it.

Then Mikey swerved the car to avoid a major pothole in the road and everything changed.

In the one second it took them to find their balance, the draculoid aimed at the back tire and shot. And this time, the ray hit his target. The tire blew out and Mikey immediately lost control over the car.

They were jerked forward and then tossed around as the Trans Am- driving at full speed- staggered around. Gerard grabbed the wheel, slamming his elbow into Mikey's shoulder to push him away. He jerked it violently, but the car was out of control. "Come on!" he hissed, teeth clenched together. "Slow down the car! Yelled Mikey, "Gerard! You've gotta hit the brakes!" "No!" he hollered back. "If I brake now, the car will start spinning and go off the road!" "Oh my god OH MY GOD SLOW DOWN THE CAR RIGHT NOW!" exclaimed Frankie from behind, in horror. "LOOK OUT!" cried Mikey at the same time.

Gerard looked up and saw the road was bending in front of them. They'd reached the foot of the mountain range.

And they were racing right towards a massif wall of rock.

For a second, Gerard was frozen. Then a gunshot hit the car in the back, sending a jolt through it, and snapped him out of it.

He clung to the steering wheel and turned it to right with all his strength. The car careened and roared, but he couldn't get it to change directions.

Everybody was shouting now.

Mikey yelled something in his ear while Frankie leaned forward, gesturing wildly. Gerard couldn't understand a word over the noise, and he couldn't think straight, so he started to shout, too, asking them to shut up. But his voice just blended with the others until he couldn't even hear himself anymore.

The Trans Am was now about to race off the road.

Gerard took one hand off the wheel for a second to rub off the sweat.

In that moment, Mikey kicked his leg aside and slammed his foot into the brake pedal. At the same time, Frank leaned into the front area and grabbed the wheel, violently pulling it to the side. Gerard only had the time to yell "NO!" before the car started spinning like crazy.

Colors flashed around them as the world blurred. Cables were flying around them.

The car was filled with screams. And then they were off the road, dashing through the desert, slamming into bushes and rocks. They were tossed around. Something hit Gerard's head hard, probably the neck of Frank's guitar (damn that thing).

For one horrible second, he believed the car was going to turn over.

After a few frightful heartbeats, the car slowed down. It spun around some more before finally coming to a stop.

They all sat there, frozen and unable to make a sound. Their panting and their beating hearts were the only sound. Smoke and dust were rising from the car.

Slowly, the revelation seeped through: They were still alive. It was over.

Gerard gradually turned his head towards Mikey, still unable to speak, and met his eyes. They displayed the shock he felt himself perfectly well.

It seemed like hours before somebody made a sound.

It was Frankie who broke the silence eventually. He started to laugh. Everyone stared at him.

The sound of laughter was so inappropriate that nobody knew how to react. Somehow, Ray started to laugh, too, and Gerard found himself joining them. Soon all four of them were laughing like maniacs.

Gerard leaned back into his seat and let his head rest on the seat. Here they were, sitting in a wrecked car, just having escaped death by an inch, with a killer breathing up their necks, and laughing away. What a messed-up situation.

The barrel of a white ray gun pressed against his temple shut him up real fast. He slightly turned to look at the drac holding it.

"Game over, princess," the man whispered gleefully.

* * *

**More to come! I'm typing it right now- might even be up today!**

**Okay, I hope, the whole thing with the times isn't too confusing. This takes place after Chapter 6, the morning after the Killjoys' battle. **

**This whole chapter just took on a life of its own... it got too long, so I split it in two, as I did with the last Chapters of part I. Enjoy and review! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

Gerard couldn't do anything other than stare at him hatefully. He couldn't believe they'd survived all that shit with the car just to get shot by some random smug BL/ind pawn. That really sucked.

"Give me your guns, right now. And don't try any clever tricks on me, _Killjoys_, or your little red-head here will go straight to hell." the drac continued. Frank and Mikey exchanged glances.

There wasn't much of a choice.

Mikey pulled out his own gun, then carefully took his brother's, too. Frank followed suit, more reluctantly. The drac looked around the car and noticed Ray lying in a hunched position.  
"What's with him?" he asked maliciously.

There was a moment of silence. Then Mikey answered.

"He's bleeding to death," he said, "can't you see the fat wound over his stomach?"

Gerard stared at him.

"Actually, one of your colleagues stabbed him. Carved a smiley face into his skin, if you care to know. A very nice work. Even if he did survive, he'd be branded with the Better Living Industries logo forever," Mikey continued. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gerard saw Frankie's mouth drop open. He himself had no clue what the hell Mikey was talking about. Ray wasn't _bleeding to death_, nor was his wound smiley-shaped.

Maybe Mikey had lost it, with the car stuff and all.

The drac gave a loud, roaring laugh. "No way!" he giggled. "THAT I've gotta see."

And he leaned inside the car to get a closer look at Ray.

At that instant, Mikey grabbed one of the countless cables in the car and wound it around the drac's neck.

Taken by surprise, he let go of his gun, but it was too late. Mikey tightened the noose. They watched in amazement as the drac wriggled and fought for his life.

It was over soon.

His body went limp and sank onto Ray, who pushed it away in disgust. The Killjoys looked at the corpse for a moment. Then Frankie started to clap. "All right, Mikey!" he grinned, "Nice one!" He kicked the door open. "Off you go!" he said and tossed the dead drac out.

Gerard couldn't stop staring at his brother. He had just saved their lives. Just when had he become so cool?

In the backseat, Ray sat up with a lot of effort. He patted Mikey's shoulder and said "Jesus, Mikey! That was a pretty clever thing to do!" "Clever? It was fucking brilliant!" laughed Frankie. "A smiley-shaped wound! Can you believe that dumbass went for it?" He ruffled Mikey's hair, who seemed a bit embarrassed over so much attention. He cleared his throat and said "Um, it's just something I came up with. It's not- it's no big deal." He thought for a moment and suddenly grinned.

"Told you the front seat was my place."

Examining the car, they realized they couldn't go on. The flat tire wasn't the problem; they had a spare one in the back. But the steering axle was broken and had to be fixed, as Frankie wisely stated after giving the car a closer look. The situation was bad, but it wasn't horrible.

The mountain range that had almost crushed them before was actually a blessing now, because on the other side of it there was one of the hidden rebel lairs with all sorts of stuff in them.

There were several of those around all around Battery City, little havens for stranded dissidents that had managed to escape BL/ind's greasy paws. The stuff inside was free to use for anyone; there was a sort of code of honor that obligated users to put back what they took or replace it some day. It was all 'one hand washes the other'.

Gerard hoped they'd find some useful tools or whatever there.

They agreed that Gerard and Mikey should go while Frankie stayed with Ray, who was too weak to walk anyway. Frank was a good shot and would hopefully be able to protect Ray in case of an attack. They sheltered their friend in a nearby notch in the rock wall and split up.

Gerard and Mikey hit the trail, each carrying a backpack with water and food supplies.

They whirled up dust with every step. It was about noon now; the sun was beaming down with full power. Neither of them said anything for a while. Gerard didn't thank Mikey for saving his life earlier; they were way beyond that.

At some point, his leg started to bother him again and he couldn't help but think how they'd been in this situation before. "This is kind of déjà-vu, huh, Mikey? Just you and me, like back then…" he said. He regretted it instantly. What a stupid thing to say.

It hadn't been _just you and me_ then. There had been three of them.

Gerard swallowed and secretly thanked Mikey for not answering.

Those memories were too hard to relive.

The brothers walked on in silence. Mikey never said anything on the matter, but Gerard knew they were both thinking of the same person.

* * *

**Yup. That was the latest chapter. :) Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Mikey saves the day! ;) **

**Back to the little girl in the next chapter(s). Hugs!**


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